


Tiger

by TheConsultantCriminal



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-11 11:00:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11147055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheConsultantCriminal/pseuds/TheConsultantCriminal
Summary: Walking home one evening in the cold London rain, Sebastian Moran witnesses something that will soon change his life forever.





	1. Chance encounter

London. Ah, it was good to be back, immersed in the acrid scent of car exhaust fumes as horns blared, adding to the din caused by the storm raging overhead. Nothing like a good old British winter. There’s just something about freezing your tits off in the rain, waiting for some bus that’s already five minutes late that just makes it feel like home. Might even be pleasant, if it weren’t for the fact that the traffic had come to a complete standstill. Something about some tosser jumping in front of a bus. Damn inconsiderate as far as Sebastian was concerned. There’s no need to ruin everyone else’s day; if you’re gonna knock yourself off, do it with a bullet to the brain or a nice little back alley stabbing from a not-so-nice acquaintance, don’t paint the road with your guts in the middle of the damn rush hour. Some people really have no manners. He didn’t waste ten years of his life crawling through dirt for Her Majesty’s Service to come back and stand around in the pissing rain, yet here he was. Khaki trousers soaked through and a now see-through white shirt clinging to his muscular torso. But then again, it does make a change from the blasted heat of the Afghan army base; It was kinda nice to be able to pull on a shirt and not feel overdressed.  
  
Huffing out a sigh, the blonde figured it’d probably have been quicker to walk the half mile back to his shitty little bedsit and heads off, grunting in displeasure at the wet squelch of his boots as he turns away from the scattered few still waiting for number 59. The bus clearly wasn’t going to be arriving any time soon. Hands in his pockets, not that they do much to keep out the January chill, Sebastian grits his teeth against the rain, wondering why he thought it a good idea to even bother venturing out in the first place. Not that he particularly enjoyed spending time in two room shit-hole he called home, with just the damp and a couple old porn mags left by the previous tenant for company, but it was a tad warmer than the grimy streets of the sprawling city.  
  
Ten minutes later and the ex-army sniper had taken a moment out to duck into a nearby doorway and dig a box of fags out of the back of his jeans, deciding a quick smoke was more worthy of his time that taking an unwanted shower on the way home, lighting up and taking his first deep drag when he noticed a strange man standing a dozen feet away.Well, not strange as such. More out of place. After all, how often do you see a bloke in a fancy get up just standing in the middle of a road, staring into some back alley like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen? In this part of London, not often.  
  
He was a short and slim, all skinny arms and sharp jaw, dark hair slicked back and completely contrasting his ashen complexion. Wearing a damn fine suit, too, as far as Sebastian could tell; he was no expert but even he knew it must’ve cost a pretty penny. Sleek and dark, fitting his frame like a second skin. It outlined his arse perfectly and with the man's back to the blonde, Sebastian saw no reason not to stare, ogling at the smooth curve of flesh barely concealed by expensive fabric as he hollowed his cheeks, sucking in another lungful of toxic smoke.  
  
It wasn’t until he heard the soft thwack of a fist colliding with something soft and bloodied that Sebastian noticed just what the well-dressed man was looking at. Or rather, what he was watching, with a great deal of enjoyment. Two men were having a tussle just past the entrance of the alley, though 'men' was hardly the word for them; one was a veritable slab of meat with the co-ordination of a two-year old, whilst the other was little more than a twig, all skin and bone and looking as if he’d snap at the slightest touch. Which he did, as it happened, courtesy of the slab of meat tripping over his own feet and falling into his opponent, ten ton of sweaty flesh and bone enough to crush the poor sod’s wrist with a sickening crunch. Unharmed by his fall, no doubt thanks to all that blubber, the fat bastard managed to get himself back on his feet, muttering something illegible from Sebastian's position before slamming himself into the whimpering bloke opposite, ending proceedings with a nice cracking of skull against brick wall, much to the delight of his one-man audience. The sick fucker even started clapping, cooing at the mountain of a man almost like a mother would at her favourite child. Sebastian, on the other hand, just tucked away a little deeper into the doorway, remembering the almost burnt-out cigarette and taking a light drag before letting it fall from his lips, stamping it out without a second thought.  
  
About to leave, he notices only all too late that the sound of his boot hitting the concrete was a little louder than he'd anticipated, causing the suited man's head to snap round, dark eyes locking on Sebastian and rooting him in place. There was barely anything to the man, but there was something about the way his gaze locked onto the sniper, cold and demanding, wordlessly asserting his dominance. Now, Sebastian Moran wasn't a man who easily scared but fuck, he _shivered_ as he stared back at the man, heart racing in his chest for the first time since he'd arrived back in England. There was something about this man, something dark and dangerous and _damn_ , danger was one thing Sebastian couldn't resist. A faint smirk began to tug at the corners of the man's lips as he summoned his over-sized henchman with a click of his fingers and Sebastian could have sworn he saw him wink before he turned and walked away, the blonde sporting a smirk of his own as he let his eyes follow the other before finally stepping out onto the street and making his way home.


	2. Brawl

Trudging up the stairs to the shit hole he called home, the little scuffle he'd just witnessed  and the man controlling it still in the forefront of his mind, Sebastian found himself laughing in disbelief at the whole situation, shaking his head as he let himself in. It was fucking typical. Nearly a decade in the army and not a single soldier shared the  level of enjoyment the  muscular blonde found in sheer, bloody violence, preferring beating a man to death to painting his brains across the walls with a bullet any day. His comrades had been too damn  reserved, only killing when necessary and always making it quick with a bullet to the brain. Even those who were a little more adventurous rarely indulged themselves simply for the  pleasure of causing a man unimaginable agony, preferring to only take a blade to a man when the poor sod had information Her Majesty's Forces required and killing him swiftly once the job was done. Yet barely a week after arriving back in the dismal British winter and he'd stumbled upon a well dressed man who evidently shared his sick delight in watching another man's suffering, the way he'd cheered on his oafish lackey before celebrating his success leaving no doubt in Sebastian's mind that he'd thoroughly enjoyed the show. And seeing as the dead man wasn't given a chance to speak, Sebastian was pretty damn sure that it was murder for the sheer hell of it. Putting on a show to please a one man audience who was all too thrilled by the spectacle.   
  
Pushing his front door open, Sebastian sighed softly as he was greeted by  the sight of his dingy bedsit, silently asking himself why this damp ridden piece of shit was a better alternative to the storm outside as he stepped in and shed his soaked clothes, tossing them  carelessly to the floor and padding into the bathroom, figuring a shower and shave might take his mind off the tedium of civilian life for a few minutes. Within half an hour, he emerged relatively clean, grunting in distaste at the sight of his own home and tugging on a shirt and jeans, not wanting to spend another night in this drab little apartment without at least a couple drinks in him.  It may be dry, but staring at the same four walls day in, day out was damn boring. Might as well go and drink his sorrows at the pub and hope the alcohol would ease the numbness he'd felt since returning to London, just as he had every night since his return.   
  
Grabbing his jacket and a pack of cigarettes, the blonde lit up before pulling his hood over his head and heading out, taking a deep drag as he stepped out into the rain. There was a place nearby, often quite rough but that was what he counted on half the time - nowadays a good fistfight was one of the few things that made him feel alive after leaving the Afghan military camp. Nothing like taking a few punches before knocking the bastard to the ground to get your blood pumping. Keeping the walk brief, Sebastian headed straight for the bar the second he reached the pub, ignoring the low murmur of the men scattered around the dimly lit room as he strode between them. He'd already taught a couple of them a lesson that week, but the fuckers could wait until he'd had a pint before exacting their revenge.  
  
The first glass he downed in one, only just ordering the second when a trio of burly men rose from their seats in the corner of the room and gathered around his bar stool, even going so far as to fold their arms over their chests as they fixed firm glares on the blonde, much to Sebastian's amusement. Though he couldn't say if he'd seen them before, it was clear that they had a bone to pick with him, one he'd only be all too happy to assist with. He did enjoy watching lesser men attempt to be intimidating only to get their arses handed back to them the second he decided to put a little effort into the fight. He could handle three - he'd faced worse odds serving queen and country, but that wasn't to say he wouldn't enjoy a little tussle in the alley. Taking his drink with a nod to the bartender, Sebastian took a sip before glancing back over his shoulder at the three men, rolling his eyes and letting out an audible sigh. "The fuck you want?" Grunting out the words Sebastian knew exactly what they wanted, turning on the stool to face them and quirking an eyebrow, eyes daring one of the brawny men to make a move. "Lets take this outside." The man to Sebastian's right hissed after a moment, nodding to one of his companions who then made a move to grab the blonde, sealing his fate the second he stepped closer. Beer still in his hand, Sebastian smashed the glass into the man's face before he could so much as lay a hand on him, all his muscle not helping the bloke as the shock of suddenly being covered in beer and shards of glass sent him stumbling back, leaving Sebastian to turn to the remaining two with a low growl. He knew he could take these fuckers and didn't waste any time, stepping forward as he drove his fist hard into the gut of the second, ducking to dodge a blow to his shoulder before delivering a sharp uppercut to the underside of his chin to throw his head back, following with a knee to his groin to leave him sprawling on the floor.   
  
Within seconds, the third of the men was on Sebastian's back, wrestling to pin his arms in place and hold him still whilst his beer-soaked companion returned to punch the blonde squarely on the nose, using enough force to break it with a wet crunch. The throbbing pain doesn't put Sebastian off in the slightest, the muscular blonde offering his adversary a bloodied grin when the second punch comes, this time to his jaw, before using the hold of the man behind him and drawing his knees up, kicking out with the force of his boots slamming into the bastard's chest enough to send him crashing into a nearby table, hopefully breaking a couple ribs in the process. Stupid fucker. If you're going to hold a man still whilst your friend fucks him up, make sure he can't use his damn legs first. Letting out a low chortle, Sebastian snapped his head back directly into the face of the man behind him, the blow surprise enough to weaken his hold whilst he gasped in pain only to have the muscular blonde turn swiftly and grab his face, slamming his head down onto the edge of the bar with a brutal force, a soft crack cutting off his pained groan. He stopped moving after that and a smug Sebastian turned back to the two men still picking themselves up off the floor, the first spitting at his feet before taking a swing at the blonde, aiming once more for his already broken nose. This time, Sebastian caught the blow, grinning wildly at the man, his eyes dark with bloodlust.  _Fuck_ , he loved this. The adrenaline, the rush of risking his life to beat the shit out of someone else, the feel of blood running down his skin... 

Winking at the man, Sebastian twisted his arm back sharply, making him gasp in pain before bringing a fist down hard on his shoulder, shoving him back into another table and turning to his remaining comrade. The bastard had already pulled out a knife and was sinking into a crouch, waiting for the right moment to strike. Not that it would serve him any better than his fists, Sebastian would make sure of that. Rounding on the man, the muscular blonde smirked, certain that he'd soon send the bloke to join his friends, and even beckoned him over, unable to resist a light tease. If looks could kill, the glare he received in return would have been the end of Sebastian, but as it happened it did nothing more than draw a low chuckle from his lips before the man charged at him with a cry of rage, swinging the blade through the air and only managing to skim the blonde's shoulder as Sebastian side stepped away, smacking the man on the arse as he passed by. Fuming, the man caught himself on the bar before turning to spit at the blonde and running at him again. This time, Sebastian didn't did he the blow, grabbing the stupid fuckers knife arm before he could sink the blade into his chest and wrapping his other hand around his throat, shoving him down hard against one of the tables. Smirking widely, he spat on the man's face before slowly beginning to turn his hand, forcing him to point the knife at his own face instead. He fought it, of course he did, but the poor fucked wasn't strong enough to throw off the muscular ex-soldier, shouting out breathless curses as the hand tightened around his throat and his struggles weakened, eventually going limp beneath the blonde as the blade slid into his eyesocket.

 

Two down, one to go. Getting up, Sebastian spat down on the body before moving over to the sole remaining adversary, growing tired from the beating and still picking himself up, nursing his arm as he glared at the blonde, cursing him loudly. With a roll of his eyes, it was simply enough for Sebastian to grab the man by the front of his shirt, pulling him in to deliver a sharp punch to the bridge of his nose then shoving him down onto the floor, muttering a low "Fuck you too" before bringing the heel of his boot down on the bloke's head. Satisfied, the blonde wiped his boot off on the man's shirt before heading back to the bar and lifting his hand in request for another drink. Damn, he'd needed that. Sure, one of the fuckers had broken his nose as he wasnt without a bruise or two, but that was all part of the fun. Still buzzing from the adrenaline pumping through his body, Sebastian didnt notice the prick of a dart in his neck until he fell from the barstool, joining the men he'd killed on the floor and cursing lowly. Head spinning and vision starting to black out, he barely managed to grip onto the edge of the bar before falling limp, barely noticing the suited man and his slab of meat walking into the pub as he slid into unconsciousness.


End file.
